


A Circle Sundered

by NoC6H12O64u



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Betrayal, Blood Magic (Dragon Age), Demonic Possession, F/M, Lyrium Addiction, Named Amell (Dragon Age), Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 11:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25349839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoC6H12O64u/pseuds/NoC6H12O64u
Summary: A Prequel to "A Tower on the Lake".This is following Eliza Amell, a mage at the Circle of Kinnloch as she recounts her life there... what it was like, what forced her to leave, and what kept her away for ten years.
Relationships: Female Amell/Cullen Rutherford
Kudos: 3





	1. Where's the Wine Gone?

“So what is training like for you all here in the South? Are the Circles as bad as they say?”

“You’re asking if the rumors and stories are true?” Eliza slowly lowered the bottle of wine, leaning back against the ruined battlements as she sized Dorian up. A rare moment of peace had fallen over Skyhold. The Inquisitor was away, opting to take Vivienne with him instead of Dorian. The two had, as was common at this point, purchased a few bottles of wine from the tavern and found a quiet place to relax. For all of his extrovert vibrato, mages were always watched so closely in Skyhold. The templars were everywhere, and even if the order was in the process of being rebuilt, old habits seemed to die hard. On the far side of the fortress, away from the barracks and Templar tower, the two mages could have some semblance of freedom. The small fire they had burning on the stone behind them flickered in the cold mountain wind… alight only by their combined will.

“Well… yes. As much as I **love** the prying questions you, and the Inquisitor, like to ask about mages in the North… I have a few of my own about mages in the south.”

“Oh?” Eliza took another swift drink, a thin layer of ice forming around the bottle where her hand was. Putting the bottle down, she laid back on the rubble, looking up into the stars above. “Well then… what do you want to know?”

“You’re a mage… does that mean your family is as well? … Amell?”

“No… no… well I don’t think so. I know I was the first one in the family born with magic, but it must run in the family or something. The Amells of the Free Marches did their best to weed it out of the blood line. That’s why I was sent to Ferelden and not some place like Kirkwall or Starkhaven… they didn’t want anyone to know they were polluted. If I had… have… any siblings, they would have been a pariah.”

“So, when were you sent to Ferelden?”

“I was… six or seven. I don’t remember much, I just remember my mother taking me to the harbor and the Templars that accompanied us… they look… so terrifying when you are a child…” Eliza let out a sigh, “When we got to the harbor, I got on a boat and those Templars accompanied me to Kinnloch Circle.”

“Your mother didn’t go with you?”

“No… but they said she cried the whole way to the harbor, and until the ship was out of sight.” Eliza took a long drink from the bottle. “Fasta vass…” She yelled as she tossed the now empty bottle over the battlements. She wiped her mouth, closing those green eyes as the wind whipped up over them.

“Eliza… are you okay?”

“Yeah… yea… like you said, you get asked questions all the time about Tevinter.” Opening her eyes, she leaned back so she could look at him behind her. He had pulled his coat tighter around his shoulders as that flame was stoked a little hotter. “So, what do you want to know?”


	2. From the Fade I Crafted You

Then the Maker said:  
To you, My second-born, I grant this gift:  
In your heart shall burn  
An unquenchable flame  
All-consuming, and never satisfied.  
_**From the Fade I crafted you,**_  
And to the Fade you shall return  
Each night in dreams  
That you may always remember Me.

—Canticle of Threnodies 5:7

_ “So what happens at the Circle then?” the words were almost lost on the howling winds of Skyhold. _

_ “Hm, What?” Eliza put down her glass, Dorian had been kind enough to go get another bottle… one she wasn’t allowed to touch now. “I mean… we lived there until we died or went to another Circle. So a lot of things happen.” _

_ “You know what I mean. What’s it like living there? In Tevinter, they tell us that they are prisons and such. What’s it like living there?” _

_ “Well, most Southern mages enter their Circles when we’re young, but we all do when we start to show magic. My Circle was split up into different levels, but I don’t know if they’re all like that. The young ones and people who had not gone through their Harrowing lived in the dorms on the first floor. The second floor is, like, our study and schooling area. The enchanters and tested mages live on the third floor, and that’s where the Chantry was as well. Above that are the Templars. Then at the very top there’s the Harrowing Chamber and meeting chamber for the senior enchanters and the leaders of the templars.” _

_ “So what do you do then?” _

_ Eliza shrugged, taking another long drink from her glass. “There was a lot of reading, a lot of studying. They had these shelves…” she gestured both her arms up, “They were almost as tall as the ceilings… like the library here but with another two or three shelves. They were filled with books from Ferelden, Orlais and Antiva… histories, literature, science, mathematics… there was something for everyone there.” _

_ “So you were self taught?” _

_ “In somethings, but not everything. We had some formal schooling, but if you wanted to learn more there were usually some books on it. Of course we all had to learn about the Chantry, Andraste, and all that religious stuff. Magic though… we weren’t really allowed to do that without supervision. When you’re deemed ‘old enough,’ one of the enchanters becomes your mentor. They are supposed to guide us towards becoming ‘good’ mages.” _

* * *

“Focus on the flame…”

“I’m focusing… it’s just not…”

“It’s a matter of will. Your will shapes the flame…”

“I’m willing it… _ ugh _ ! It’s not listening…”

“Stop.” The mage waved her hand and the fire in the brazier between them extinguished. The pupil let out a frustrated groan, stomping their foot. “Take a breath. It’s fine.”

“You can do this so easily!”

“Not when I was your age,” the mage walked around that brazier and took a knee so that they were facing the child.

“I’m not a child.”

“You’re ten.”

“So?! This shouldn’t be this hard…” The mage chuckled a little, motioning for the young apprentice to follow them to a table. The open chamber was lined with bookshelves with studying tables nearby. A handful of teachers and students were in different areas for lessons, and yet other apprentices were in their own areas to practice spells and lessons. The mage sat down, patting the next chair for the child.

“I want you to show me where you think we get our magic from.” The child, once settled in their seat, looked at the mage with utter confusion. There was a small laugh, and they took a piece of paper and a quill. “We draw our energy from the Fade right?” The mage took the quill and crudely drew the two of them, and a fire pit between them. “Alright… so I want you to finish this. You’re there… when you are trying to control the fire. Where are you pulling your energy from?” She slid the paper back to the child, who took the quill nervously. He looked from the paper, back to the mage, and then back to the paper. Biting his lip, he started to draw a line, filling it in with dark black lines. It was a pool off to the side of the paper, dark and endless.

“There.”

“Hm… So explain why you drew it like this.”

“Well, the Sisters say that the Maker created the Fade first. And then he turned away from the Fade and the creatures in it. He made the Veil to separate our world from the first world. So… it’s gotta be off somewhere else, but close enough for the demons to see us and try to hurt us.”

“Hm… I understand that now.” The mage smiled. She took the paper and flipped it over to the back, redrawing the scene. “Now you are absolutely right. The Sisters and the Chantry teach us of the Maker, the Veil, and the Fade. Our magic comes from the Fade which makes it dangerous. The Fade isn’t so far away though…” She took the quill and drew shimmering lines around the fire, and then each of the crude stick figures. “The Fade is all around us.” She whispered softly, “and the Veil is like a curtain between the two, but we can’t see the curtain. We can feel it though. Close your eyes. Do you feel energy humming around yourself?”

“Y...yes.”

“That’s energy from  _ the Fade _ . When the mages say that everything is driven by our will, don’t think of it as if we are trying to make the world do what we want.” She gestured over to the fire. “That fire will be a fire, and will burn as long as it has fuel. We can’t change that. When they say your will, it’s your ability to pull that Fade energy, and then use that energy to influence the world around us. So when I say focus, focus on that energy and commanding the energy to do what you want.” She held out her hand towards the brazier, that fire shimmered, growing for a moment before part of the flame broke off and flew to her hand. “Scoot back a little,” she smiled, moving her own seat away from the bookshelves and tables. “Now close your eyes again. Focus on where the flame is, but don’t feel for the flame, focus on the energy  _ around _ the flame.” The child nodded, closing his eyes and falling silent.

“Can you feel it?” The child nodded. “Okay, now what I want you to do is to pull energy  _ away _ from the flame. Will the energy to leave the flame, and that will extinguish it.” There was another moment, and the flame in the mage’s hand trembled and grew. “Focus… Focus, you can do it. Pull it away…” the flame grew again, but then quickly extinguished. The boy opened his eyes, letting out a laugh and pumping his hands in the air.

“I did it!”

“You did!” the mage smiled. “I’m so proud of you! Now, do you think you could do that with the flame in the brazier? Remember, you are pulling energy  _ away _ , you want to extinguish the flame.” The boy nodded, excitedly running over to where they had been before. 

“Your tutoring sessions seem to be going well.” A blonde female elf smiled as she stood a few feet behind the mage, out of sight.

“Well, I had a good teacher… and some of the children are so eager to try and be  _ good _ mages.” The mage smiled, wiping her hands on the folds of her robe before standing and turning towards the elf. She was much older than the young woman, lines were gathered around her eyes and mouth. Her hair was kept short, shaven on both sides with the scalp portion quite a bit longer.

“Hm, well I’m sure your teacher would like to hear the compliment,” the elf smiled, closing that distance and extending her hand to touch the young woman’s shoulder. “Remember Eliza, you’re still an apprentice. Be careful  _ who _ you are tutoring and more importantly, who  _ sees _ you tutoring. You know that there are rules in place to keep us safe.”

“Yes, Arinrill.” Eliza let out a sigh, brushing a stray strand of dark brown hair out of her face. “I just thought…”

“I know. Your heart is in the right place. If you were my student back home they would say you were sent by Sylaise herself.”

“Now who is putting themselves in danger,” Eliza said quietly. She took a step back, looking around the room to see who else was there.

“Now, now,” Arinrill put her fingers on Eliza’s cheek, pulling her attention back. “I’ve told you, so long as they find no totems or symbols, I have nothing to fear of speaking of my creators.”

“To mages maybe, but if the  _ Templars _ hear you then you know it’s different.”

“And I’ve taught you to be aware, yes? Why would I impart that onto my student if I didn’t heed the advice?” Eliza let out a sigh, and just nodded. The elf chuckled, patting her shoulder. “Come on… speaking about the guardians of our souls, it’s about that we report to the Chantry for prayers.”


	3. “Foul and corrupt are they Who have taken His gift”

_"Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him._  
_Foul and corrupt are they_  
_Who have taken His gift_  
_And turned it against His children._  
_They shall be named Maleficar, accursed ones._  
_They shall find no rest in this world_  
_Or beyond."_

-Canticle of Transfiguration 1:2

“ _ And no longer was it formless, ever-changing, _

_ But held fast, immutable, _

_ With Words for heaven and for earth, sea and sky. _

_ At last did the Maker _

_ From the living world _

_ Make men. Immutable, as the substance of the earth, _

_ With souls made of dream and idea, hope and fear, _

_ Endless possibilities… _ ” 

Eliza sang softly with the other apprentices at the front of the Chantry, under the guidance of the Revered Mother, the Sisters, and the watchful eye of the Templars who stood near the back of the Chantry. They always started with singing from the Canticles, and then the Revered Mother would go into her speech about the Maker and his creations and how he loved them even though they were the most sinned. Eliza guided some of the younger children in her row, helping them with the songs, and in paying attention enough to not draw the ire of the adults. Everyone was dressed in their best robes, as opposed to their everyday wear. 

Everything was organized, regimented, and predictable. The Revered Mother completed her sermon, and they all filed in front of her to receive their blessings before going to their evening meal: first the apprentices, then the mages, then enchanters, then Templars, and then the Tranquil. From the Chantry, it was a short walk to the mess hall, where they filed into their assigned seats again. It was repetitive, and the older apprentices fell into that same predictable pattern of complaining.

“Deion, did you really fall asleep?”

“Yes… I can’t help it! It was so boring today…” The sixteen year old human was picking at his food, splitting the vegetables into ever small parts. His brown hair was long, almost covering his grey eyes. He didn’t  _ look _ like a mage, he had a larger built more like the Templars that surrounded the room. He yawned, putting his fork down and rubbing his face with his hands, “She just drones on and on about how we have to do so much to make up for our sins and we should regret everything.”

“Well you should Deion, you  _ did _ set fire to the stores last week.” A lithe elf laughed next to him. Shaeril was younger than both of them, and had a thicker accent that placed her from Denerim.

“Shut up Shaeril, you froze the well and it took two enchanters to melt it enough so we could get water.” Deion laughed, bumping his arm into the young woman’s side.

“Yea… that really helped everyone get through the baths quickly,” Eliza laughed.

“I saw you helping Max earlier. How’s he doing?” Shaeril pushed her empty plate away, fiddling with the knife on the table.

“You know how it is. Every time the kids move up a level they always get frustrated. Max is so eager, and so scared of messing up… I just helped him kinda visualize how it all works. That helped.” Eliza shrugged, finishing up her glass. “I hope Werner is a little gentler with him. I think Max feels a lot of pressure to get things right the first time.”

“Yeah, Werner’s a prick,” Deion smirked. “Every time he is trying to show me something with pyromancy I’m either an idiot for not getting it right, or irresponsible for not having enough control.”

“I  _ know _ , I feel so bad for Max.”

“I also saw Arinrill talking to you, do you think she approves?”

“Yeah,” Eliza shrugged. “I’m not doing anything new. It’s all stuff Werner taught Max, but he’s so nervous about screwing up that he doesn’t do well when he’s with Werner. I figured a little help here or there might boost his confidence and he may be able to move on to the next level quicker.”

“Better do it quick,” Shaeril smirked, “I hear you’ll be with the next group that goes through their Harrowing.” Eliza’s silverware went clattering to the floor, earning her a few looks from the other mages, and the Templars. “For the Maker’s sake, calm down, Eliza. You’ll bring  _ them _ over here.”

“Where did you hear that?” Eliza cleared her throat, leaning over to pick up her fork and spoon as inconspicuous as possible.

“Just on the ol’ rumor mill, you know how it is.,” Shaeril grinned. “I thought someone would have told you by now…”

“Gossip is a sin, Shaeril.”

“Eliza, we  _ both _ know you’re not a devoted Andrastean,” Shaeril laughed, causing the blush on Eliza’s cheeks to grow a bit darker. “Both of our ears would be burning if you were. When you go, you have to tell us everything that happens! It’s so stupid that they don’t tell us anything about the Harrowing.”

“First, you don’t know if it’s true. I might not have my Harrowing for months. Arinrill hasn’t said anything to me yet, and she would be the first person Irving would tell. Second, you know I can’t tell you anything about Harrowing. Greagoir will have my head.”

“Oh come on,” Deion leaned across the table towards Eliza, “You have to tell us  _ something _ . What would he do? Make you a Tranquil? They can’t do that  _ after _ your Harrowing.”

“You know what? If it happens, I’ll tell you what I can. But seeing that it’s not going to happen any time soon, I’m not saying a thing.” Eliza slid her legs over the side of the bench, picking up her dishes. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I want to try and get some fresh air before curfew.”

“Yeah yeah, go hog the window while everyone is eating,” Deion smirked. “Just watch it, someone said something about someone planning to jump out the windows so the Templars are watching them like hawks.”

“I swear, you two and your gossip are going to be the death of me.” Eliza laughed.

“Come on! Someone has to liven this place up,” Shaeril smiled, blowing Eliza a kiss. There was an  _ ahem _ behind her, and Shaeril’s shoulders dropped as she turned to see an Templar behind her. Eliza just chuckled, stepping quickly to put her dishes in one of the baskets before rushing from the room, avoiding the glances of the two Templars at the door.

* * *

The second story windows were the only ones open to the Apprentices. That common area was shared by all the mages. However, the graduated mages and enchanters had windows on the third floor where their sleeping quarters were. There were no windows on the ground floor, where the apprentices were. That meant that the apprentices had to go all the way to the second floor in order to see the outdoors, or breath fresh air. The few seats and tables near the windows were highly coveted, but Eliza had found a way to secure a spot. No one dared to skip their meals, so on most days, Eliza devoured her dinner in order to leave the mess hall and take one of those cherished seats. She had to space it out through the week, so not to draw the ire of her fellow mages or the templars, but those days were her favorites. She enjoyed watching the sunset over Lake Calenhad. On summer days, like this one, the heat usually drove the Templar’s and other apprentices away from the west-facing windows. The light from the sun, paired with the heat, made it too uncomfortable for those in armor, or those with little control over their magic. Eliza had figured a way to keep the air moving just enough to make it bearable, but still not enough to alert her watchers. It was a balancing act that all apprentices and mages had to learn; how much magic could they use and not draw suspicion. 

Not all of the Templars were awful. Just like with her fellow mages, there were those who were pleasant enough, but yet those who used their power for their own gain, or just wanted to punish those that couldn’t fight back. The worst of abuses could be addressed, but it usually meant that a Templar was removed and sent to another circle… and usually after great cost to the mages they had interacted with. Most of the Fereldan Templars were male, but there were two or three women at a time within their ranks. Usually they were only allowed to watch the female mage’s quarters, monitoring the youngest of the mages, and monitoring the Tranquil. These tasks were seen as the easiest, and Eliza knew that many of the women found it demeaning. They never said anything outwardly though, only under their breaths and when no one was listening. The Templars were a part of a brotherhood, and they always had to put on a uniformed front against the mages. They supported each other, even at their worst. To them, seeming weak in front of a mage was a recipe for problems later on.


End file.
